A Dream

Thru the gate of dreams
I strayed into an arched chamber where
Golden lamps shone dimly thru the smoke
From golden censers filled with incense rare.

Chained on a golden throne,
Her fair form gleaming thru her draperies thin,
A woman sat, with two dogs "Want and Woe"'
Beside her--this was Sin.

Upon a pedestal stood one
Crowned with the laurel wreath of fame,
And round his feet a writhing serpent coiled
Ambition was his name.

There in the dusk alone,
In the after-glow of suns long set,
Her eyes fast dimming with a mist of tears,
Sat Memory, striving to forget.

^__Louisa Cooke Don-Carlos